


happy birthday to me.

by A_Legendary_Sprout



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drabble, Gen, He doesn't get one, Hurt No Comfort, Jschlatt Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt-centric (Video Blogging RPF), writing sad goat man at 3 am hits different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Legendary_Sprout/pseuds/A_Legendary_Sprout
Summary: What if it was actually Schlatt's birthday?-------Today was a good day to celebrate something.The morning was warm with a light breeze and the light of the approaching dawn coated Manberg in a golden glow.Schlatt smiled sadly.
Relationships: None, shippers i will eat your kneecaps
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





	happy birthday to me.

**Author's Note:**

> I think i got all the warnings but if theres something i missed leave a comment.  
> Good luck reading

Today was a good day to celebrate something. 

The morning was warm with a light breeze and the light of the approaching dawn coated Manberg in a golden glow. 

Schlatt smiled sadly. 

There wasn’t much to celebrate anymore. Except for the fact that this was his first birthday in a while that he hadn’t spent staring down the bottom of a barrel. 

But if you asked Schlatt he’d hardly call that a mercy. 

Alcohol made it easier to pretend that Tubbo was just on his lunchbreak sitting in the small bee garden behind the White House. That Quackity was going to burst through his office door at any minute, smiling and cracking jokes. 

But they were gone. 

He should have known that staying sober today was a lost cause. He stumbled towards his liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle and poured a glass. 

He smiled and drifted away into the fog that welcomed him. 

Today was a good day to die. 

~~~~~~

He awoke to the sun beaming down on him without mercy 

The whole world seemed to sway. 

“W-what’s going on?” he mumbled trying to orientate himself, familiar bravado slipping into his voice. 

He could pretend. 

The weight of the flask in Schlatt’s hand seemed heavier than normal. His head swam as he looked at the ruined remains of the drug van, he was met with glaring eyes and shining netherite. 

“Is this a surprise birthday party” he asked. He knew the answer, but a man could hope. 

He remembered the last time he had properly celebrated his birthday. It was in the orphanage, he had bought himself a piece of cake with a miserable little candle on it. He'd been so happy sitting in that poorly lit room staring at his birthday cake. 

It had been one of the best birthdays of his life and if that wasn’t a depressing thought. 

He was quickly pulled from his reminiscing by talking, he barely caught the question thrown his way by Wilbur. 

“Are you drinking?” He sounded shocked and almost disappointed. 

Like he had wanted something more, like he had expected more from Schlatt. 

What a joke. 

He remembered the old times when Wilbur was his friend, always wearing that old yellow sweater, god-awful beanie and guitar that seemed to be glued to his back. The two of them exploring the world and causing mischief wherever they went. 

Schlatt celebrated his birthday with him once, a storm had been raging outside of the shed that was held together by a few branches and their hope. The two sitting around the fire sharing food and talking about the future. 

Wilbur had sung happy birthday; it had been horribly offkey because his guitar had been drenched by the storm. But Schlatt couldn’t care less as he listened to his friend sing, looking at him like he had hung the stars 

He’d been a fool then and and maybe he still was one. 

He looked at the Wilbur in front of him, gaunt and almost swallowed by his trench coat. The most noticeable though were his eyes, they glinted with hunger and madness. He couldn’t imagine this Wilbur playing the guitar. 

He wondered if this Wilbur remembered his birthday, maybe he did the man always had a thing for symbolism and poetic justice. 

~~~~~~

He noticed the murmurs that had started now the excitement and thrill of finally getting revenge had lessened. Eyes looking at him in hopes of something to slay, a monster to kill. Now looked at the ground trying to avoid looking him in the eyes. 

He looked at them. 

He looked at circle of faces that surrounded him and realized that not one of them would mourn him. The only tears that would be spilled today would be of relief. 

He smiled at the cruel irony. 

Surrounded by people and still he died alone. 

Something in him whispered it was always going to end like this. The taste of metal filled his mouth and he smelled something burning. 

“Does anyone smell toast?” the question was soft but still managed to silence the room or maybe he just couldn’t hear them anymore. 

The world was fading fast till all he could see was the flickering light of a torch. 

It reminded him of his birthday candle. Standing proud until it burned out yet... 

Always alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to at 2 am and i wanted to write it so others could suffer with me. This is one of my first published works so constructive criticism and comments are greatly appreciated.  
> I hope you enjoyed and have a lovely day.  
> Sprout<3


End file.
